Sweet Misery
by bluebacon
Summary: '"You shouldn't have done that," the strawberry blonde raised an arm, and Madeline winced, expecting him to slap her Instead, he grabbed the side of her head and violently yanked her towards him, smashing his lips against hers
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Hetalia.**

**Warning: AU, fem!Canada in a 2p! world.**

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A small, lithe body huddled alone in the darkness, trying to preserve what little warmth was left in the frigid cage.

The young girl shivered; wrapping her pale arms around herself tighter as she felt a strong breeze leak through the slightly open window.

Why, her captor let the thing open, she didn't know.

Maybe to add even more misery to her already hopelessly long list.

She was tired, hungry, and sore all over. Not to mention freezing cold, thanks to the sudden change in weather.

The girl shifted in the cramped cage; it was horribly small.

Fatigue taking over, she attempted to close her baggy, violet eyes; only to pry them open again with pale, bruised fingers.

She couldn't sleep; that man would just come back and haunt her nightmares again.

_That man_.

The young teen felt her eyes glaze over with unshed tears as she thought about her kidnapper; how he snatched her away that day.

She remembered the screams...oh God, the screams...

Everything happened so fast; strong, calloused hands grabbing her waist and shoving her into a thick brown bag; carelessly tossing her into the trunk of his car like a sack of potatoes. And then, nothing.

She hastily wiped the tears away; she couldn't cry, not now.

The girl refused to show any sign of weakness to that bastard.

All of a sudden, the rusted door slammed open, and a figure sauntered in, walking over to the painfully tiny cage she was stuffed inside.

Speak of the devil.

Bright blue orbs, pink swirling madly inside, locked on her.

She saw full lips curl into a grin, and watched, heart thumping in her chest, as the man leaned over, freckled face pressed against the bars of her prison.

"Hello, _Madeline."_

The girl just shut her eyes and prayed.

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**Hope you enjoyed!**

**I plan to have lots of EngCan/MapleTea in this...so be prepared...:P I may have some side pairings as well, but I still have to decide on what they will be.**

**Anyways, if you guys want me to update, PLEASE REVIEW! :D **

**I will not update until I have at least 2 reviews~!**

**Thanks! :-)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Still don't own Hetalia...**;-;

**Warning: fem! Canada**

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"How're you doing, love?" A soft voice whispered; warm, minty breath tickling the back of Madeline's neck and sending shivers up her spine.

Madeline didn't answer.

She refused to speak to that monster.

A few minutes of silence passed; the older man watching Madeline keenly, an amused look on his face.

Madeline, still angry, turned away from him.

"My, aren't you a stubborn little thing?" he commented, trailing a slender finger against the bars as he walked gracefully to the other side of the cage, now face-to-face with the young Canadian.

The Brit examined her appearance, putting his thumb to his chin in thought. "Dreadful thin, you are. When was the last time you ate, poppet?"

Madeline averted her eyes. "Dunno," she drawled, crossing her arms.

Cerulean eyes twinkled merrily, as if that were a good thing. "Wonderful," he said, turning on his heel and skipping out the door.

Madeline furrowed her brows suspiciously as she watched the figure exit.

She had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

"Here you are~" the man chirped; placing a plate on the cold floor.

Madeline leaned over slightly, peering down at delicious-looking buttercream cupcakes. Her mouth watered at the sight, her eyes staring greedily at the treats.

They seemed to be perfect; maybe a little _too_ perfect.

Madleine reached for one and brought the cupcake up to her nose, resisting the urge to gobble the thing down, and sniffed it.

_Drugged_.

Madeline practically threw the offending thing at the plate, vigorously wiping her hands on the scrap of rags she had for a dress.

The man, who had been grinning wildly with anticipation moments before, frowned. "Is there something wrong?" he dared to ask; making Madeline fume.

"Are you kidding me?" she said, eyebrows raised incredulously.

He blinked in confusion, cocking his head to the side. "Do you not like my cupcakes?"

Madeline pushed the plate away, getting madder by the second at the man's obliviousness. "There is no way that I'm eating _that_," she stated coldy. She turned, arms crossed. "I'm not hungry anyway."

The Brit raised an eyebrow as her stomach growled loudly.

Madeline remained unresponsive.

He then glanced down at the cupcakes and picked one up; taking a small bite.

"You know," he started, chewing slightly. "These are way better than the grotty your father used to make. Bloody disgusting, those were."

He snuck a glance at Madeline, as he wiped his mouth with a silk hankie. He _knew_ that he went too far; he just didn't care.

Madeline, tears streaming down her face, furiously threw a cupcake at the man. It landed with a satisfying _thwack_, icing splattering everywhere.

He stared at her in shock.

"The only thing that's disgusting is _you_, you hoser!" she spat, eyes blazing with rage. "And I don't want your damn cupcakes!"

The man did nothing but smile bitterly as he picked up the tray of said treats and headed for the door.

"Fine then; have it your way," His eyes were hard and emotionless as he reached for the doorknob. "You can starve for all I care!"

He slammed the door shut, and with the click of a lock, Madeline was left alone in the darkness once again.

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**I hope this satisfied you guys! Promise the next chapter will be longer! I request at least 2 more reviews until I update again!**

**By the way, grotty is British slang for something gross or disgusting. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Hetalia.**

**Warning: some swearing, Oliver being Oliver, and...Maple...Cupcakes! :D**

**THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED, FOLLOWED, FAVOURITED! EARLY UPDATE FOR All! :D**

* * *

When Madeline woke up, she noticed several things.

But, the most important, was that she was no longer in a cage.

Oh no, instead she was in what looked to be a kitchen (a rather nice, expensive one at that), tied to a chair. And you would never guess who was standing in front of Madeline, staring at her all high and mighty.

Mr. Bastard himself.

The man was actually quite short, but he still had a good inch or two above Madeline nonetheless. His cerulean eyes twinkled wickedly in the light, freckles upon freckles adorning his button nose. And his smile; Madeline thought it was the fakist thing she had ever laid her eyes on.

"Had a good sleep, luv?"

Madeline bit her chapped lower lip with annoyance; the Brit was clearly mocking her.

But, before she had a chance to reply, the man strolled over to the other side of the kitchen, taking a pair of mitts out from a cupboard. "You know, I've been thinking about some things. Like how impolite I was to you the other day. Silly me, I really ought to introduce myself to you."

He bowed slowly. "I'm Oliver Kirkland. Pleasure to meet you."

Madeline would've given him the bird if her hands were tied so tightly to the wooden chair. "Ha, sure," she replied dryly. She looked down at her bonds and back at him. "What do you want again?"

"Oh, nothing really," he answered, conversationally pulling on a pair of pink polka dot oven mitts. "I just thought that I should be a good host and make you some breakfast. You look famished, Maddiekins."

"Okay first of all, don't _ever_ call me that again, please. And second of all, I thought you clearly said yesterday that you weren't going to feed me anymore," she said, staring accusingly at him.

Oliver raised a thick eyebrow. "And you _believed_ me?"

Madeline gave him a confused look. "Uh, _yeah_."

"Well, I changed my mind," he announced, turning on his heel, moving towards the oven.

All Madeline could do was watch Oliver with confusion as he gingerly took out a metal tray of English muffins from the oven.

He then expertly sliced them in half, placing the muffins on a delicate-looking plate. And with a twirl, he put the plate down on the already set table, pulling out a chair for him to sit on.

Oliver smiled at her. "Which do you prefer, jam or butter?" he asked, holding the two up for the younger girl to see.

Madeline shrugged.

"Jam it is them!" he said happily, spreading it over the English muffin with a knife.

Madeline stared at said 'jam'. Since when was jam _green_?!

Her thoughts were interrupted when Oliver put a plate infront of Madeline. On it were slices of tomatoes, an English muffin smeared with that strange jam, and what looked to be sausages.

"Here you are, poppet," he beamed.

The girl didn't respond.

Personally, she didn't even want to touch the stuff; even though it looked delicious, there was a certain something about the food that disgusted her. She just wasn't sure what it was yet.

Oliver looked at her expectantly, nodding at her breakfast.

Madeline stared at him; then at the food. "Um, I appreciate this and all, but how can I eat it if my hands are tied to a chair?" she said, trying to avoid eating the suspicious food.

Oliver, now silent, stood up and walked over to her. He then swiftly picked up a piece of the muffin. "It's simple; I'll just feed it to you," he answered, grinning devilishly at her.

Madeline opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver, quick as a flash, shoved the English muffin inside.

Madeline, furious, tried to spit it out, but Oliver got a firm hold of her jaw and shut her mouth for her, forcing the girl to swallow.

Madeline coughed loudly, choking on crumbs.

The muffin was sickly sweet, while the jam tasted absolutely revolting. Madeline fought the sudden urge to vomit.

"Would you like some tea to wash it down?" he asked, his eyes twitching with excitement.

Madeline recognized the crazed look from before and shook her head no; Oliver simply ignored her.

He picked up a china teapot from the counter and generously poured it into a teacup.

Madeline peered into the cup, steam going into her face. She jerked back however, when she saw thick, dark crimson liquid splashing inside, boiling hot.

It looked just like _blood_.

Oliver grabbed the cup eagerly, bringing it to Madeline's lips, which where now pressed into a firm line.

She didn't want to take any chances.

But just as a red droplet fell onto her skin, burning her slightly, a loud voice interrupted Oliver from pouring the thing all over her.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

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**And that is all, my friends!**

**Remember to review! I request at least 2 reviews please! :D **

**see ya next chapter! **


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own Hetalia.**

**Warning: Allen's mouth, fem!canada, slight AU, some blood**

**THANKS AGAIN FOR ALL THE REVIEWS, FOLLOWS+FAVOURITES! :D**

**Homemade buttercream cupcakes for everyone! **

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_"What the fuck are you doing?!"_

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Madeline immediately turned to the sound of the voice, startled.

She was greeted by a tall, leather-clad man; staring at Oliver coldly through thick black sunglasses.

He scowled menacingly.

Oliver, in return, gave the auburn haired man a friendly little wave. "Hello there, Allen. What a pleasant surprise," he smiled, acting as if everything were perfectly normal and that he did not try to shove tea down Madeline's throat moments before.

"Ha, pleasant surprise my ass," Allen laughed dryly; his eyes wandering to Madeline, giving her a once-over. "You know that Francois will fucking _kill you_ if he finds you with one of his prostitutes, right?" Allen commented, starting to smirk.

Oliver casually placed a protective hand on Madeline's shoulder, smiling widely. "She's not Franny's, I can assure you," he began, gripping Madeline's shoulder possessively. "She's _mine_."

Madeline started to protest. "No I'm no-"

Allen couldn't help but interrupt, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I bet she's half your age, you pedophile," he sneered.

"You're just jealous," Oliver answered smoothly, taking a long sip out of tea.

Allen rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, have you seen Matt around? The fucker broke my nose," he said, changing the subject.

Oliver's eyes looked into the steaming crimson tea, letting his pinky finger twirl inside of it. "No, I haven't," he started. Suddenly, his eyes widened and the short man jerked up, surprising both Madeline and Allen.

"Be back in a moment; I need to use the loo," he announced hurriedly, speed-walking out of the kitchen.

The two both sat there in complete silence for the first couple of minutes, unsure of what to say. After all, they barely knew each other.

Allen turned to Madeline, attempting to strike a conversation. "So, uh, what's your name, blondie?" the tan brunette asked, nodding at her.

"...um...Madeline..." she slowly answered, reluctant. "Why?"

"Ah, no reason in particular," Allen replied, adjusting his sunglasses. "But I have to know..." he started a bit too cockily for Madeline's liking. "What's a kid like you doing with an old fart like Oliver?"

Madeline looked down. "I'm not here by choice," she bit out, mentally cursing herself for letting tears glaze her violet eyes. "He kidnapped me."

Allen stared at her, long and hard, before laughing as if it were a joke. "_Seriously_?"

"What's so funny?" Madeline narrowed her red-rimmed eyes, unimpressed at Allen's obliviousness to her situation.

The brunnette casually smoothed back his unruly hair. "Nothing. It's just that you're exactly like the _others_."

His words sent a shiver down Madeline's spine. "Others?"

"Yeah. The geezer brings in a new girl every month, treats 'em real nice." His eyes darkened. "But then, at the end of the month, it's like they completely disappear. One day they're here, the next, _gone_."

Allen calmly glanced at the red liquid inside the teacup. "I've heard that Oliver makes every newcomer drink the blood of the previous girl."

Madeline looked at him in horror. "Y-you _serious_?!"

"Maybe..." Allen gave the blonde a grin, one that could only be described as shit-eating.

Madeline shook her head, sighing at how stupid she was to believe the taller man. "You're just pulling my leg, aren't you?" Madeline stated, smiling nervously.

She didn't like the way he replied at all.

"Don't worry. _You'll find out soon enough_," Allen chuckled darkly; Madeline just stared at him, eyes wide with terror.

Allen, satisfied, then started to saunter away, glancing back at Madeline one last time. "See you in the near future, kid."

Madeline didn't answer, eyes staring stoically into the teacup. She bit her lip, beads of sweat rolling down her face as the crimson liquid seemed to taunt her.

* * *

Madeline was so desperate to escape she ended up with her wrists scratched raw and bleeding, along with her bare ankles; trying so hard to break free of the rope that tied her to the horrid chair.

* * *

By the time Oliver came back from the washroom, he found her unconscious and bleeding profoundly.

The strawberry blonde shook his head and undid the bonds all in one swift motion, picking the limp girl up bridal style. "Silly child," he tutted, gently kissing the top her head as he carried her away. "You must be really gullible to fall for Allen's little stories."

He smiled softly at the girl; she really looked so small and fragile and..._young_, despite the fact that she was pratically dead to the world.

Blood slowly dripped from her wounds; Oliver looking syphathetically at her. "Let's go get you fixed up, poppet."

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**Ta-Da! There you have it; Chapter 4! Hope you all enjoyed; I tried to write a lil fluff/ahemOliverbeingcreepyahem* for ya!**

**Remember to leave a review! You know the drill! I shan't update until I have at least 2, please! :D **


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